Drabble Dabbles : HHr
by MiHnn
Summary: A series of drabbles. All ratings, all lengths, and all based on Harry/Hermione.
1. Harry100 Part 1

**A/N - I came upon this site on InsaneJournal called Harry100, where there are a series of prompts given weekly. The only catch is, it has to be Harry-centric. I decided to challenge myself with these prompts, only adding to it my own dose of Harry/Hermione :)**

**Each drabble is 100 words long.**

**Disclaimer : All characters stated in this fic belong to J.K. Rowling. If it belonged to me, there wouldn't have been an epilogue.  
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**Prompt 1 : Hero**

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Harry stared at the flames as he stood beside the fireplace in their common room. He was too preoccupied with thoughts of death, destruction and failure to hear her; noticing her presence only when she wrapped her arms around him and laid her cheek against his back.

"What are you thinking about?"

He placed his hands on hers, drawing comfort from his best friend. He thought about what they had been through, what was still to come. "What if I fail?" he whispered.

Her arms tightened around him protectively. "You won't, Harry." She snuggled further into his back. "You won't."

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**Prompt 2 : Diagon Alley**

**.  
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They ran as fast as their feet could carry them, their lungs bursting with laughter. This had been fun. He usually feared for his life because a psychopathic Dark Lord saw him as a threat; but today, he was just another kid, who feared getting caught and pummelled above anything else.

"This way," Hermione gestured frantically, and he followed, immediately turning into a secluded alley.

"I think we lost them," he choked out breathlessly.

"Yeah," Hermione laughed out. "Goyle's face was-"

"-classic," he grinned widely.

They let out another breathless laugh.

"Thanks, I needed this."

She beamed at him. "Anytime."

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**Prompt 3 : Expelliarmus**

**.  
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"That was just _brilliant,_" Ron beamed.

"Don't encourage him, Ronald."

"Why the hell can't I? You saw the way Malfoy went flying."

Harry stifled his laughter when he got a reprimanding glare from his left.

"This is not funny, Harry. You could have seriously injured him."

"What do you think healing potions are for?" Ron piped in.

"Just because we have healing potions, doesn't mean we can just cause injury whenever we want. Right, Harry?"

They both looked at him expectantly.

"Um.. you're both right?" Harry mumbled.

Glaring at him, Hermione marched away.

They looked at each other, sighing. "Women."

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**Prompt 4 : Halloween**

**.  
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"Come on, Hermione. Do you really need to study _today _of all days?"

Harry waited until she finished writing.

"Harry," she began patiently as she finally put her quill down. "Do you know what tomorrow is?"

"The day _after _Halloween?"

"That may be. But it is also the day when our 'History on Trolls' paper is due."

"I thought you finished that ages ago."

"I did. But then I found this book-"

"I'll let you be then," Harry interrupted quickly.

That was when his gaze landed on the twins, and he grinned. They would know what to do about Hermione.

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**Prompt 5 : Inevitable**

**.  
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He watched the two of them constantly. They argued, and they weren't quick to forgive. They didn't see eye to eye, and they didn't always respect each other's opinions. They were like two explosive charms, he just didn't see them together.

"It's going to happen soon, you know," Ginny said wisely as she stood by his side. "Ron will someday get it into his daft head that he likes her."

Harry watched the two talking, laughing. "You think so?" he couldn't help but ask her, as his eyes stayed on Hermione.

"I know so," the red head shrugged. "It's inevitable."

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**Thank you to Smarzie for the lovely beta work. I'm sorry I couldn't use all your suggestions. The 100 word limit, you know :)**


	2. A Thoughtful Gift

**A/N - Written for the Colourful Phrases Competition**

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**Prompt:** True blue

**Title:** A Thoughtful Gift

**Rating:** PG

**Word Count: **707

**Warnings/Notes:** None

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If Harry had been asked what was the hardest thing he had to do two years after the fall of Voldemort, he wouldn't have to think before replying. The answer was easy: keeping Hermione away from Kreacher.

"Honestly!" Hermione huffed as she blew off the loose tendrils of curly hair off her face for what seemed like the tenth time. With a forlorn sigh, she held out the package that was wrapped in attractive yellow paper. Again.

Harry simply watched her while taking languid sips of his cup of tea.

"Harry!" Hermione immediately turned to chastise him. "Tell him to accept my gift."

Kreacher simply looked up at Harry with dread before muttering a few choice words under his breath. Harry chose to ignore that. "You've tried, Hermione. Maybe it's time to admit that you can't give a house elf a birthday gift."

"Harry Potter, have you met me? I'm not the type to give up."

It was at this point of time that Harry thought it prudent not to tell her exactly what he thought of that, and instead chose to mutter his thoughts under his breath in a very Kreacher-like manner. Hermione, of course, immediately noticed the behaviour and narrowed her eyes at him. Harry responded by sending a sheepish grin her way in hope that it would lighten her mood. It didn't.

"Hermione, just let him be. He's happy simply by stealing things and pretending that none of us exist." The house elf shot him a look of cautious respect. It nearly freaked him out.

Hermione sighed again, and Harry knew she was about to start off on a rant. He couldn't let that happen.

"For one thing, you don't know when his birthday is."

"But-"

"And you know he won't accept gifts from anyone."

"Yes, but-"

"And it's not like he would become happy when he gets a gift. If anything, you'll be making him unhappy." When she frowned, he decided to go in for the kill. "Make Kreacher happy by _not _ giving him the gift."

"Harry, that doesn't even make sense. What are you suggesting? That I..." She paused when she noticed him look at her meaningfully. "Oh." Placing the box on the kitchen table, she winked at Harry and made her way closer to him, stepping away from the frightened house elf. "Now that Kreacher doesn't want that gift, I guess I can give it to Ron's house elf. You know how Winky _loves_ gold chains."

From the corner of his eyes, Harry saw Kreacher's ears twitch lightly at the mention of gold.

"Oh yeah," he said, trying to hide his smile. "Winky will just jump at all the gold you will be giving her."

Kreacher's ears twitched again, only this time while the house elf came closer to Harry. "If Master wishes Kreacher to have the gift, it will be Kreacher's honour to accept the gift," the house elf said grandly as he bowed low.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a look. With a wide grin, Hermione handed the box to Harry, who in turn gave it to Kreacher, who accepted it with curious eyes. "Open it," Harry said before taking another sip of his tea.

With a cautious glance towards his master, Kreacher opened the yellow paper to reveal a box. With greedy eyes, he opened the box only for his eyes to be shadowed with something akin to disbelief before he fell to his knees and started sobbing.

Harry looked at Hermione as she stared worriedly at his former house elf. "Are you happy now? You just made a mean creature cry."

Hermione bit her lip thoughtfully. "You don't think the shirt is too big for him, do you?" Kreacher only wailed louder.

"I told you he wouldn't be happy," Harry said dryly as he watched the house elf roll over on the kitchen floor while crying out in emotional pain. "You're too much of a true blue activist, Hermione."

Hermione shook her head, wincing when the wailing only got louder. "Not really, Harry. I still have another forty seven registered house elves to set free. And.." She looked at him suggestively. "_You're_ going to help me."

Harry couldn't help but give into his compulsion at that moment. He groaned in dread.

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	3. Rainy Days

**A/N - Written for the "Sell me a Story" Challenge.**

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**Title:** Rainy Days

**Rating:** PG-13

**Word Count: **1272

**Warnings/Notes:** None

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It was a moment of content. It had been so long since she had felt it.

She found herself feeling happy as she stayed just as she was, sitting on the floor of a room filled with cans of paint, her back against a wall, while the person who she cared about the most was lying across her, his head resting on her thighs. And the mess they were in didn't take away from that feeling; it just added to it. She was very much aware that her loose shirt - borrowed from Harry, of course - and jeans had paint blobs around it; that her hair, which was piled high and clipped, still didn't keep her curls from freeing themselves and having a bit of paint on the ends; and she was also aware of the streak of paint on her chin from when Harry decided that horseplay was a better option than painting the wall.

Harry had been pining for a break ever since they started the manual work. She, on the other hand, insisted on doing at least one wall before any break was to be taken. She knew him. If he wasn't pushed, he wouldn't have ever gotten around to doing even this basic thing for his new house. And now she sat on the floor, her limbs aching and the afternoon sun streaming through the window causing her eyes to droop shut.

The scene was so normal, it made her smile.

It had been a near nightmare trying to pick the light yellow they had used to paint the opposite wall. Harry wanted something darker, which looked like the exact same colour the wall was before; and she wanted something lighter, a new colour to signify a new beginning. Ultimately, this colour was a compromise between the two of them. And if she was the deciding factor, so be it. He was horrible at designing anyway.

She was still thinking about all the drama they had to go through to pick this colour when the person using her as a pillow shifted slightly. Hermione sighed happily as she started lightly running her fingers through Harry's hair.

"Tired?" she asked softly.

Harry scoffed, his eyes closed as he enjoyed this moment of rest. "I wouldn't be if I was allowed to paint this room using well known enchantments. It's funny how when I actually _have_ the power to take the easy way out, I'm not allowed to use it."

"I told you," she said sternly, "it's so much more meaningful if you paint the colour yourself. When hard work goes into it, you appreciate it a whole lot more."

"Oh yeah, my body _really_ appreciates the pain I'm putting it through," he said, his voice drifting softly.

Hermione smiled as she continued to eye the one wall they had painted as she leaned comfortably against the still-to-be-painted opposing wall; her fingers continually moving against the dark, messy strands thoughtfully. "I like this colour."

"You should," Harry mumbled, his tone one of utter laziness. "You picked it."

"I mean..." She squinted at it. "It's a happy colour."

"I didn't know colours could be... unhappy."

Just for that statement she tugged on his strands a bit roughly only to soothe his head with a gentle touch in apology. "What I _mean_ is_,_ I can just picture it," she said wistfully. "Sitting here and reading on rainy days while the gentle rain drops pitter patter against the window. That would be nice."

There was a moment of silence before Harry mumbled cautiously, "You inhaled the paint, didn't you?"

And just for _that _statement, she flicked his ear, earning a satisfying 'ow' in response. "Honestly, Harry, I'm trying to justify picking this paint colour."

With a gentle grunt, he sat up slowly, twisting his body so he could face her. "You know I don't care about what colour it is."

"But you _should._ This is your home now. How can you not care what it looks like?"

He shrugged lightly. "I just don't."

Hermione sighed again, this time in frustration. "I don't know why you agreed to paint the house if you didn't care what colour it was before."

He looked at her then, his expression serious. "You cared."

If he thought he was being romantic, he was wrong. "You know how I hate it when you do things for me without consulting me first." She narrowed her eyes at him to show exactly how serious she was.

Instead of being apologetic, as she hoped he would be, he grinned cheekily at her. "I do a lot of things without consulting you first," he whispered hoarsely before he dipped his head and placed a lingering kiss against the soft spot below her ear.

Hermione couldn't stop the smile that broke through, a small giggle escaping her at what he was obviously getting at. "You know I'm not talking about _that._"

Harry moved back so he could face her, a large grin across his lips. "Then what are we talking about?"

She placed a hand on his chest to keep him at bay, knowing very well from past experience that he would try to kiss her just to shut her up. "What I'm talking about, Mr Potter, is your utter disregard for _your_ feelings. You're always thinking about me over you. And as much as I _love_ that quality of yours, I feel horrible when you do things like this."

"I can say the same thing about you," he said seriously.

She bit her lip thoughtfully. She knew he was right. But that didn't take away from the fact that she would still like him to be selfish just once in a while. Giving up on this topic for now, she lightly patted his chest. "Come on. We have a room to finish painting." She stood up quickly, moving over to the can of paint.

She had just picked up the brush and was about to put a second coat when he said it.

"Marry me."

Surprised, she turned around, vaguely aware that the instant thudding that blocked out all other sounds was her heartbeat. "What?"

Harry was already getting to his feet, his eyes looking at her hopefully. "Marry me, Hermione."

Dear Merlin, she hadn't been dreaming it. "Harry...I..._what?_" she sputtered. Did he have to ask her? Did he really?

He came towards her nervously, raising a hand to her cheek and brushing his thumb gently against the dried paint there. "The reason I told you to pick whatever colour you wanted was because I was hoping you would be spending more time here." He leaned even closer, his eyes pleading with her to say yes. "It doesn't feel like home when you leave."

She stared back at him incredulously, her surprise causing the paint brush to slip through her fingers and fall to the floor. She found herself unable to breathe, unable to speak. Instead, she opted for the best thing she could think of; she kissed him. Harry immediately responded by circling his arms around her and pulling her towards him.

Slowly, he pulled back, a small grin playing on his lips. "Sorry, didn't quite catch your answer."

She nodded, vigorously. "Yes! Yes, I will," she said softly, hating the fact that she was close to tears. Why was she such a crier?

He pulled her even closer, his grin widening. "You won't be here only on rainy days then?"

Hermione let out a small laugh, shaking her head slowly. "No. Not just on rainy days."

"Brilliant," he whispered before he kissed her again.

Hermione kissed him back passionately, ecstatic that she hadn't been the only one who felt like she belonged in this house.

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	4. The Sting of Regret

**A/N - Written for the Writers30days Challenge and Show me the Angst Challenge  
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**Prompt:** "No matter how careful you are, there's going to be the sense you missed something, the collapsed feeling under your skin that you didn't experience it all. There's that fallen heart feeling that you rushed right through the moments where you should've been paying attention."- Chuck Palahniuk.

"Over the horizon"

**Title:** The Sting of Regret

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **1,172

**Warnings/Notes:** None

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Hermione shivered slightly as she kept walking; her arms circled around her body to keep herself warm, her feet dipping slightly with every snow covered step, and her exhaling breath coming out with short, smoky puffs. It was a cold December night. One where she fully planned to sit around a fireplace all warm and toasty while drinking the cliché eggnog and singing carols. Instead, she found herself on a mission to retrieve back her best friend.

When everyone had noticed that Harry hadn't bothered to come celebrate Christmas with the Weasley clan, a few of them immediately dispatched themselves to go search for him. They all went to his home, his work place and his favourite haunts. But only she knew where he was. From the moment they decided that it was uncharacteristic of him to not show up and how silent he had been previously, Hermione had a niggling feeling that she might know where he was. Which is how she found herself in Godric's Hollow on Christmas Eve making her way through the maze of stone slabs dotted around the cemetery.

She found him where she knew he would be, standing before the graves of his parents with his shoulders hunched and his eyes intensely fixed on their names. The scene was so familiar that her chest tightened instantly at the sight. It seemed almost normal and fitting that he would visit his parent's grave on the same night that he first discovered them over a year ago.

She took cautious steps as she made her way towards him, rightly expecting him not to look up at her while she finally stopped and stood beside him, looking at the graves of his parents.

"Thought you might find me."

Her first impulse was to drag him by the arm and lead him out of the cemetery. Instead, she stepped closer to him and made her tone casual to match his. "I thought you were coming to the Burrow for Christmas."

"I changed my mind."

She hadn't expected that as an answer. "You shouldn't be alone on Christmas, Harry. No one should."

From the corner of her eye, she saw his lips twist in a small smirk. "That's the thing, isn't it? I'm alone anyway," he mumbled bitterly.

"Harry, no-" She gave up all pretence of looking at the graves in front of them, and turned to face him fully. "Why would you think that?"

He shrugged lightly before lifting his gaze to meet hers. His eyes looked back at her hauntingly, his green irises darkened considerably by what she could easily recognize as pain. Hermione felt the need to embrace him immediately; to whisper soft words of comfort as she held him. But like all other instances when they were alone, she checked herself; keeping her hands limply by her sides on purpose.

"You're not alone."

A beat passed before he said softly, "I will be." He dropped his gaze to her left hand, and Hermione flexed her gloved fingers consciously.

Taking in a shaky breath she said quickly, "You have Ginny." She ducked her head immediately, knowing that her voice had broken the moment she had spoken her future sister-in-law's name. "And Ron, Molly, Arthur, George. You have too many people to think you're alone." She waited for him to look at her. When he didn't, she continued softy. "You have me."

Harry's gaze stayed on the graves in front of him in intense contemplation. "I feel like I missed it."

"Missed what?" was her automatic response. She knew what he was talking about. How couldn't she? But the topic was a dangerous one, and she wanted him to leave with her so they could go back to the Burrow and celebrate just like she had planned.

"My chance."

Hermione bit her bottom lip so hard it hurt. Taking another shaky breath, she stepped away from him; the topic he wanted to talk about making her chest feel like it was collapsing in panic. His eyes immediately flickered up at her movement, his eyebrows knitting together in a frown.

"Hermione-"

"We should go." She circled her arms around her body in an effort to stop her voice from shaking. "We should go now." She couldn't talk about this. Not now. Not while she was wearing someone else's ring.

He watched her silently for a moment before he nodded, his gaze dropping back to the graves of his parents. "I'm sorry."

She knew she shouldn't ask him why. She just _knew_ it. But that inherent quality in her that wanted answers reared its curious head and she asked him, "For what?"

He hesitated a beat before whispering, "For not fighting for you."

She didn't want to have this conversation. She knew that if they did, she would be the one to break the promise made by that silver piece of jewellery she wore. "I'll wait outside," she said shakily as she started taking cautious steps away from him. She waited for him to nod his assent before she turned on her heel and made her way to the exit of the cemetery, fighting back the tears that burned their way to the surface.

Once she was a fair distance away, she finally turned around and watched him, noticing that he hadn't shifted much since she had arrived. She had never really been the type of person who believed in 'Charming Princes' and 'Happily Ever Afters', being forced to believe in magic only after she turned eleven and had received a thick parchment envelope that stated blatantly that she should. But she had, in her naivety, believed in having that one moment of contentment when she was at her old age, looking over the horizon and _knowing_ she had no regrets in her life.

She wasn't sure if she could have that moment now.

When Harry finally looked up, his eyes searching hers until their gazes met, she felt her breath hitch in fear. There was a certain determination in his eyes, a sharp edge to his jaw which made her think that he had made up his mind about something.

Hermione stayed frigidly still as he made his way over to her; his steps slow, deliberate and making her more uncomfortable with each step. When he finally reached her, Hermione found herself shivering uncontrollably, something that she was sure wasn't caused by the weather, but by her own nerves grating nervously against one another.

"Let's go," he mumbled softly, his gaze barely meeting hers.

Hermione nodded, quickly hiding her disappointment - for what, she wasn't sure. She let her fingers be held lightly by his while he took a moment to look around the cemetery, that same serious glint in his eye. It didn't take all that long before she felt that familiar pull and let herself be taken, determined to put this moment they had experienced together behind her.

The truth was, she need not have worried. That night, Harry Potter proposed to Ginny Weasley; and she said yes.

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	5. Mistakes Made

**A/N - I'm back! - Well, back on this site, that is. And now I'm in the process of uploading all of my stories. As soon as I saw this prompt, naturally I thought Harry/Hermione. Written for the Hump Madness Competition 2012.**

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**Prompt: **Regret

**Title:** Mistakes Made

**Rating:** M

**Word Count: **499

**Warnings/Notes:** None

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He's surrounded by loud music and happy laughter, yet he chooses the seat furthest from all those around him because of the company.

She waits until he's seated before she stands up to leave. He panics, his hand immediately reaching out to her only to catch the train of her dress through his fingers. "Wait." He sounds breathless and hurt, even though he has no right to be.

"Harry…" She says his name the way he remembers, a silent plea that he ignores.

Her smile is small and strained as she raises her hand and brushes his fingers with hers, a gentle nudge for him to let her go. Reluctantly, he does as she bids, letting her fingers entangle amongst his while her eyes look on him in sadness.

She bends down slowly and places a soft kiss against his temple, the slight pressure of her lips causing his eyes to close and inhale her scent as if she were a memory, if only for a moment before his gaze meets hers once again.

"Congratulations, Harry," she whispers against his hair, the slight dip in her voice causing his heart to ache.

"Thank you, Hermione," he says to be polite, or so he thinks as he moves his head a little to the side, bringing his face closer to hers. Her eyes are wide and her breath is warm against his lips. She is so close now, so _so_ close that he gently bumps his nose against hers, closes his eyes and exhales. They have been like this once before, two friends in a lonely tent before his lips had met hers. It was a flurry of hot breaths and low moans as skin met skin, her nails raking his back and his fingers bruising her hip. The memory of her touch sends a low thrum through him and all he can think about is the moment she parted her thighs and he entered her for the first time, her wet warmth surrounding him completely. He wants to relive that moment so much it _hurts_.

She puts her other arm around him, embracing him in a hug that he has wanted for so long. "It's…" She falters. "It's your wedding day, Harry."

His grip tightens. "I know."

Her lips part above his, as if she was to say something more, the light brush of her upper lip against his causing their breaths to mingle. All he can think about is what he wants; how easy it is to kiss her, how much he needs to kiss her. "I made a mistake, Hermione." His voice is rough and his throat hurts when he says the words. He thought it would be easier.

She pulls away, her fingers trailing away from his and her glance falls briefly on the ring on her left hand. "We both did." She leaves him then, a sad smile playing on her lips just as his wife calls him for a dance.

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	6. New and Different

**Prompt: **Attraction

**Title:** New and Different

**Rating:** M

**Word Count: **521

**Warnings/Notes:** Seriously. M rating.

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It's not that they spoke about it; not really. For all of Hermione's need to talk about feelings and emotions, she found that she couldn't quite say a word about what they were doing.

There have been instances; of course they have. But they had been moments that she had simply filed under 'cannot be dealt with' while a few were placed under 'should not be dealt with'.

When Ron asked her if she and Harry ever had a thing, she had scoffed. When Ginny hinted that Harry might have more than friendship on his mind when it came to her, she ignored it. And when Harry kissed her, when he pulled her in, met his lips with hers, only to pull back immediately and sputter an apology, she had shaken her head, said it was all right, and thought that it was nothing more than a mistake.

It was only because Harry was trying to live as a Muggle, she thought. He was attempting to live the life he has always wanted and she was the closest friend who knew what a telephone was as well as the workings of a television. They are simply two friends spending an awful lot of time together and that one action—one mistake—was something that can be blamed on hormones or other such reasons.

But the thing is, that one mistake just kept on happening. She never meant to kiss him on the lips rather than the cheek when they had said goodbye one evening and she never meant to snog him senseless behind an old curtain during the Ministry Christmas Party, hidden from all the world to see. Even now, with her back pressed against a wall and his erection against her hip, Hermione can't help but think that they should talk. But they were at her apartment and his lips were doing glorious things to her neck, so when she plans to push him away, she instead, pulls him closer and begins shoving her hands through his jumper to touch skin.

This is new. This is different. They have never gone so far before.

It's a moment that makes him pull back and look at her. There's tenderness in his eyes when he touches her cheek, and she feels something shift beneath her when he lowers his head to brush his lips against hers oh so gently. It's enough to make her moan, to make her want him to make her his.

They are a flurry of kisses and a tangle of limbs, but none of that matters. He sighs against her skin when he enters her and she moans his name when he bruises her hip. It's quick, uncontrolled and wonderful. And when it is finally done and he collapses on her, Hermione can't help but breathe out, "We need to talk about this," against his neck to hide the unruly blush that has spread across her cheeks.

His chuckle warms her heart, but his humorous gaze and the deep kiss that follows, sparks her skin and makes her tangle her fingers in his hair only to whisper, "Again."


	7. Sins and Virtues (Part 1)

**A/N : I suddenly realised that I have a boatload of Harry/Hermione drabbles that I hadn't posted here. I'll be starting with the Sins and Virtues series of 100 word drabbles. Guess who has what! ;D**

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**Prompt: Pride and Humility**

**Title:** Sins and Virtues (Part 1)

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings/Notes:** None.

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"Ow! What was that for?"

"You shouldn't talk like that."

Harry rubbed his side with a wince. "Why can't I? They would have done the same if we had lost."

"But, you didn't," Hermione sniffed haughtily. "And I'll elbow you again if you're going to rub it in their faces."

Harry stared at her. "They're stinking Slytherins."

"And we're Gryffindors."

"Exactly! It's a rivalry that has lasted years."

"And we must be the ones to stop it."

Harry groaned. "You're seriously saying that I shouldn't rub it in that _we_ won?"

"You can, but only if they act like prats."

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	8. Sins and Virtues (Part 2)

**Prompt: Envy and Patience  
**

**Title:** Sins and Virtues (Part 2)

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings/Notes:** None.

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Harry always envied others. Their worlds were smaller than his, their worries even smaller. Their biggest problems revolved around school, friends and family. Harry's biggest problem was a Dark Lord who had been hunting him since birth. And now he had just been informed that a prophesy told of his coming death.

_No. Not his death. Not exactly._

Neither could live while the other survives.

Hermione squeezed his hand, her eyes falling on the First years he was watching while they practiced jinxing each other for a laugh.

"You'll get through it, Harry."

He didn't know if he believed her.

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	9. Checking Impatience

**A/N: Taking a break from the series for a bit.  
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**Title:** Checking impatience.

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings/Notes:** None.

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The kiss had been impulsive. It wasn't a simple meeting of lips but so much more. His arm circled around her waist and pulled Hermione flush against him while she eagerly responded by tightening the hold on the lapels of his jacket and entangled her fingers in his dark messy strands.

"Oi! We're not done yet!" cried Ron.

Reluctantly, they parted, grins matching as they let each other go.

As the sun finally set down the horizon, the Minister cleared his throat.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife." He eyed them both sternly. "_Now_ you may kiss the bride."

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	10. Sins and Virtues (Part 3)

**A/N: And we're back to the series.  
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******Prompt: Sloth and Diligence**

**Title:** Sins and Virtues (Part 3)

**Rating:** G

**Word Count: **100

**Warnings/Notes:** None.

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"Honestly, if I had a Galleon every time you've asked me to do your homework…"

"I'm not _asking_ you to do my homework; I just want you to look it over."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe see if I missed anything."

Her eyes narrowed.

"And if I happened to miss anything, to note it down."

She glared.

Harry smiled sheepishly. "That's it."

Hermione fought a smile. "One of these days I'm not going to help you."

"And when that day comes I will grovel at your feet and shower you with compliments."

"Or you could actually pay attention in class."

.


	11. Perfectly Normal

**A/N: A quick drabble I jotted down for an 'Appreciation of Harry Potter Meme' over at LJ. The prompt was too good to pass up. Keep the rating in mind, please.  
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******Prompt: Snogging in the library  
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**Title:** Perfectly Normal

**Rating:** M

**Word Count: **706

**Warnings/Notes:** Just some sexiness.

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Harry chuckled lightly as he felt her nuzzle his neck. "I missed this."

"What?" she asked with a light, teasing tone. "Snogging?" She nipped at the sensitive skin below his ear and his arms tightened around her as a result. He pulled her even closer, letting his eyes close as he enjoyed the way she placed warm, firm kisses along his jaw and the nape of his neck. Her fingers tangled in his hair and pulled at the dark strands almost painfully. Harry didn't care. He yanked her from him before kissing her fully on the lips, deepening the kiss immediately and enjoying the small moan that escaped her.

He felt her hands let go of his hair only to trail down his chest and stop teasingly at his belt. His own hands were under her Muggle dress, lightly caressing her thighs as he pushed her against the bookshelf that was behind her.

Placing his knee between both of hers, he pried her hands from his clothing only to wrap his hand around both her wrists and pin them above her head in an effort to hold her still. Hermione arched against him as he attacked her throat, a small sigh escaping her when he followed the edge of her neckline down to her chest.

"We really should stop this…"

Harry kissed her under her jaw. "You're complaining?"

"Not in the slightest."

She tried to follow his lips with hers, but Harry stayed adamantly away, kissing the corner of her lips, then her chin, her cheek, before brushing his lips lightly against hers and then kissing her shoulder.

"We're acting like children," she said breathlessly, her body squirming against his in frustration. "Juvenile, really."

It was her hip movement that did it. The moment he felt her grind against him, Harry lost all pretences of wanting to tease her so that he could kiss her thoroughly. The noises she made only made him want to rip the clothes right off her.

Hermione pulled back so she could whisper, "We can't stay here for long," against his lips, her eyes blazing brilliantly with passion while her mouth was plump from all the attention he had showered on her.

"It's the restricted section," Harry said confidently, his free hand already snaking under her dress to touch her between her thighs, "no one ever comes here."

This time when he kissed her, she fought him, squirming in an effort to release her hands so that she could tease him back while Harry tried to tame her with practiced strokes between her thighs. She was already wet for him.

"Mom?" a familiar voice cried suddenly. "_Dad_!"

They pulled apart quickly only to see their fifteen-year old daughter eye them both disbelievingly with bright red cheeks of mortification.

"We discussed this! Parents' week is not for you to hide out somewhere and snog each other senseless!" She glared in a way that was very much reminiscent of her mother, her embarrassment nearly forgotten when she spoke her argument. "If you two don't keep your promise to keep it in your pants, I will have no choice but to look for other _normal_ people to play my parents for these things. I'm serious, Dad," she said strongly before leaving, as if all of this was his fault when it was his wife who was clearly to blame.

Hermione hid her face in her hands as she giggled nervously. "We better go before she disowns us." She tried, and failed, to straighten her hair from the mess Harry had tangled around his fingers.

Harry held onto his wife, taking a deep breath before dropping his head onto her shoulders. "Give me a minute."

He then proceeded to think of every unattractive thing he could think of to calm his excitement. But then his wretch of a wife had other plans. She teasingly bit his ear as she slipped her hand inside his pants to grab a hold of him, after which, leaving was the very last thing on Harry's mind as he practically tackled his giggling wife.

Needless to say, their daughter, as threatened, started interviewing potential parents the very next day, half of which came highly recommended by the headmistress, McGonagall, herself.

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End file.
